Making a Cake
by the fish is dead
Summary: The conversations that can transpire when baking a cake ... RL/NT. Please R&R!


She pushed back a stray hair and emptied almost the whole box of cocoa into the mix.

"You know, that discarded piece of parchment in front of you is, in fact, the recipe. I understand your resentment for anything so restraining such as these derisive written instructions, but for the sake of this poor cake, and to avoid complete scarcity in our cupboards at _least _for a few more weeks, I would suggest maybe – just perhaps – giving it a glance."

Tonks pressed her lips into a tight smile, flicking a floury dishcloth at him. "I know what I'm doing, you old bat."

"My apologies. I had no idea the remnants of our breakfast cereal was a critical ingredient in chocolate cake," Remus replied evenly, dusting the white streak from his robes.

"It makes them crunchy."

"Ah. My mistake. Personally, I'm completely satisfied as long as you restrain from adding in my potion ingredients. I don't think Fleur and Bill would appreciate their wedding guests dropping dead before their eyes."

"Mhm? Pass me that masher, would you? I need to break up a lump."

"Oh, certainly. Those lumps positively _do _have a way of sneaking up you."

"Shut it, before I mash your face in."

"Please, spare me, good woman!" He moved towards her, tenderly placing his hands on the nape of her neck and massaging the skin slowly. "Would you like me to draw you a bath? I'm sure by the time the eggs have been beaten you'll be hardly noticeable through the thick layer of splatter. Good enough to eat, surely, but not the Nymphadora we once knew and loved."

"Hm." She raised a spatula thoughtfully to her lips, tilting her head back onto his toughened shoulders. "Now, in this bath, would there be bubbles?"

"Of course."

"Would there be candles?"

"Without a doubt."

"Would there be a certain werewolf who cannot resist torturing me about my lack of talent in the kitchen?"

"Good God, woman! How could you even suggest otherwise? He'd never miss a bath time. He's gotten to be quite a fixture in the tub, if you've noticed."

"I have, in fact. It's a good thing I don't value privacy." Tonks chuckled lightly, licking the dark mixture off the spatula she was holding.

"Merlin, that's unsanitary. If only the people had any idea what they were going to be eating."

"Oh, don't have an aneurysm," she tutted as she continued to mix the batter with the aforementioned item.

"I'm also putting into account the fact that you have an _extremely_ filthy mouth. God knows where it's been and what it's done."

"Well, God and you."

"Of course."

Tonks turned from him, quickly pouring the batter into a square pan, wiping her hands clean with satisfaction. "There. Remus, be a dear and put it in the oven."

"Certainly, madam. It is my honour and privilege to be at your beck and call."

Tonks grinned, running a thin hand through her already tousled pink locks. "Hey, you can't complain about submitting to my every whim. I'm a pregnant woman." She fell silent at her last words, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Remus did not immediately respond; taking his time depositing the cake-like monstrosity in the oven. With a solemn expression, he neared her, placing both long, time-worn hands on her still taut stomach. Together they stood for a moment, the silence speaking every word on their faces.

Tonks was the first to venture out into unknown territory. "Remus, what if I can't do this?" His hands moved slowly from her stomach to her face, grazing her shoulders and neck gracefully, forcing a slight shiver from her. He clasped her face in his hands, and as he implored with his eyes, she closed hers.

"What if I can't handle the pressure? Remus, I can barely take care of myself. I'm always falling apart. I..." Her eyelids fluttered, but she did not meet his gaze. "Think of my family, Remus. The odds of any kind of success are unlikely." From under her eyelashes he could see a glimmer of a tear, just waiting to spill over.

"Nymphadora..." He stroked her cheek, and she grew stiff against his embrace. "To even consider the possibility of you not being a brilliant mother borders on insanity. You already take care of everyone around you. You lighten everyone's spirits; just the sheer force of your presence can make people smile. You are the heart of us, Nymphadora. You were given such an extraordinary talent to love, and in no way do you ever put it to waste. As for your family...look at your mother. She's an amazing woman, an amazing witch – you were born to the right Black, and you have without a doubt inherited the same righteous qualities it takes to be a wonderful witch, a good friend, and an aptly loving, superb mother. Nymphadora, it's natural to fear what is to come, but that does not make it practical. Because you will..."

She inhaled sharply, and this time he forced her to look at him. Her watery eyes were almost too much for him to bear. "_You will_ be a fantastic mother."

She gave a half-hearted chuckle, burying her face in her hands, and then in Remus' chest. "It's funny," she muttered, entangling her hand in his. "You put so much effort into making me believe that this baby is nothing to be afraid of, and yet, you aren't convinced of it yourself." She met his eyes with quiet insistence. "I know you aren't."

He responded with a thin smile, and then, "I don't think it's hit me yet." He paused, kissing her forehead lightly. "I suppose I'm hoping that you'll be able to do the same for me when it finally does."

"I promise, I will." She spoke without hesitation.

He moved his lips down to her, which she met with force. A familiar, yet ever-changing, sensation hit them both, and their hands moved quickly along each other, their mouths hard-pressed and ever grasping for more.

"You never did start that bath."

She felt him smile, his lips still tight against hers.

"Why don't you get on that while I decorate the cake? I think it's almost done."

"Do try and keep the decorations traditional, darling." He broke away, heading to the bathroom.

Pausing at the doorway, he asked, "Boy or girl?"

"Must we continue on the topic of our unborn little mutant?" She grinned good heartedly, but thought she saw a trace of worry, or perhaps something else, flicker across Remus' expression. It was to be the first of many. "But a boy, of course."

"Of course?"

"Merlin, yes. You males get all the shortcuts. Besides," she bit her bottom lip lightly, her expression twisting mischievously. "I think I'd rather fancy a kid that looks just like his father. So _handsome_."

"Please, you're making me blush," Remus replied flatly, but he was unable to suppress a smile. "So, I'll get to that bath, shall I?"

"You shall."

She watched her husband walk away, her eyes lingering on the empty hallway for minutes after.

Twisting her wedding ring on her finger, she stared out the window into the calm, sunny day, her thoughts buzzing.

She was happy. Truly, indescribably happy. Whatever came, she would remember this. She would remember that if this was lost, it was not always impossible to find again. She would fight, but even if she lost...

She would remember this.


End file.
